Spontaneous
by hpgirl4ever
Summary: Quatre Winner's never liked surprises and is just about the least spontaneous person there is, whether he wants to be or not. Can a chance meeting and a certain green eyed protestor change all that? Will Quatre let him? And, more importantly will his dad?


Quatre stood on stage behind his father, security guards flanking them on all sides as they faced the hostile crowd. He really wasn't sure why he was there, his older sisters usually handled these things as they were more 'diplomatic', but they were all apparently to busy for something as trivial as this and his father had thought it prudent that he get more involved in the family business. Seeing as how he was the future CEO, he understood the theory behind the idea, but when put into practice, he couldn't help questioning the intelligence behind it.

He was more than a bit disgruntled that he'd simply been thrust in front of an angry group of people with no knowledge of even why they were so upset in the first place. However, judging by their signs, shirts, and loud chants he'd wager they were protesting the destruction of a forest his father was apparently planning to tear down for one of their timber companies or something of the sort.

"My son and I will now be open for questioning" Mr. Winner said calmly into the microphone, shooting an inconspicuous warning glance at Quatre before he once again turned to face the crowd.

"Are you so money hungry that you have to kill centuries old trees?" A voice demanded, Quatre looking down to meet with a startling green eye, its twin being partially covered by a cascade of brown hair.

"What trees?" Quatre asked before he could stop himself, shrinking somewhat under his father's glare as he realized that the mic had picked it up.

"Well isn't that nice Winner" the brunette asked, "So is that it? You're just using your son as some figurehead puppet, not even letting him know what you're doing?"

"My son is well aware of our business" Mr. Winner said brusquely, "he was merely enquiring whether or not you were referring to a specific cluster of trees."

"Is it true that your son's gay?" A reporter who had managed to shove her way to the front asked. Quatre inwardly groaned, another one of the many reasons he hated being in these types of situations. Reporters had been asking this nonstop, whole articles being devoted to speculation on his sexuality. It had started after his friend Zechs had dragged him to a gay club. He'd apologized profusely when Quatre's picture had been splashed across the front page the next day, and of course Quatre had forgiven him, though he wished people, for once, would mind their own business.

"Winner's only male heir gay?" Another protester at the front asked, "Now that's just hilarious."

"My son is not gay." Mr. Winner growled, "And we would very much like a stop to be put to these disgusting rumors."

"I'd date him" as silky voice from the front said, Quatre looking down to once again lock eyes with the brunette from before, a flush taking over his features.

"Aw, he's blushing. Isn't that cute" the other protester from the front of the mob said, several cameras flashing at his observation.

"As agreed we will take one protester back stage to discuss our business on their insistence in the effort to promote peace" Mr. Winner said curtly, putting a stop to the tangent discussion. "We'll wait ten minutes for you to make your selection" he finished, turning and striding away leaving Quatre to hurry after him, their bodyguards falling into step with them.

Behind the erected stage was a door leading into the building of the company hosting the conference. As soon as the doors were shut behind them Mr. Winner whirled on his son, the bodyguards dispersing to dutifully position themselves in various corners of the room.

"What the hell was that?" Quatre's father demanded.

"I'm sorry" was all Quatre said, knowing better than to try and argue with his father in such a state.

"You're sorry? Do you realize how you just publically humiliated your family Quatre?" he demanded, "It's bad enough that you're going through this ridiculous little phase of yours, but you had to drag this family into this problem of yours as well."

"It's not a phase!" Quatre said, forgetting himself for a moment as anger began to take over. "It's who I am! I'm gay, dad, when will you get that? And it's not my fault that you never bothered to tell me what new money hungry project you've stupidly decided to invest in!"

Despite the weight the words took off his shoulders the blond instantly regretted them the second they left his mouth. Really, he should have been able to anticipate the blow before it came being well aware of his father's bad temper and unfortunate resulting high blood pressure, but that still didn't stop him from rearing back and clutching the side of his face in pain as his father backhanded him.

"Well isn't this a turn of events" a low voice said, Quatre and his father both turning abruptly, not having heard the door open.

Quatre was mortified; face turning several shades of red as he came face to face with the green eyed protester from before who looked more than a little pissed.

"My son will handle your interview" Mr. Winner growled, spitting the word son out like it was something particularly distasteful, shooting one last withering warning glance at Quatre before stalking out of the room through a side door, two bodyguards flanking him.

Taking a deep breath Quatre took in the man. The protestor wore black converse, simple dark blue jeans and a white shirt that held the Winner Enterprises logo on it with a red X through it, the words 'Save The Trees!' beneath it.

"Trowa Barton" the tan stranger said, holding out a hand that Quatre quickly reached out to take, the other's hand warm in his own.

"Quatre" he said quietly, blushing as he realized that they were still holding hands, quickly breaking the contact and earning a raised eyebrow.

"Are you alright?" Trowa asked, genuine concern in his voice as he lifted a hand to lightly run over Quatre's cheek.

Quatre was a bit taken aback by the man's seeming lack of recognition for personal space, but couldn't quite say that the touch was unwelcome as he unconsciously leaned into the hand before controlling himself, stepping back slightly as he painted on a fake smile.

"I'm fine, thanks for asking." He said automatically, inwardly groaning as he realized that'd he'd probably have to borrow some of one of his sisters' makeup to hide the bruise that was sure to form.

Green eyes narrowed as Trowa carefully took in the somewhat skittish blond before him, "Does that happen a lot?" he demanded, voice hard as Quatre blinked for a moment, somewhat stunned.

"No" Quatre finally answered stiffly, not completely lying. His father occasionally hitting him was no rare thing; it was just rare that he'd strike him anywhere that could leave a mark so visible to the public eye.

"Already lying Quatre and we haven't even started the interview yet" Trowa smirked, making Quatre flush.

"I'm not . . . erm, please have a seat, we should begin now if we want to finish on time." Quatre sighed, taking a seat as Trowa did the same. "Well?" Quatre asked, shifting uncomfortably as Trowa stared at him silently.

"You don't even know what your father's doing, do you?" he asked at last, staring at Quatre intently.

Quatre frowned, thoroughly floored by the question, "We have several ventures within Winner, you'll have to be more specific."

"So you don't know" Trowa murmured, nodding to himself with a small smile. "Your father's cutting down Sanque National Park for one of your lumber companies. Those trees are centuries old Quatre, they're supposed to be protected but apparently that's not stopping your father."

"My nanny used to take me there when I was little" Quatre murmured, realization dawning on him as he sat back in his chair, as a slight frown marring his features.

"And your father's going to cut it all down. You can do something to stop it Quatre." Trowa said earnestly.

Quatre had to laugh at that, the very idea ridiculous. "You've seen my father, even him around me without any press present, do you honestly think he'd give a damn what I thought?" he murmured.

"You could try. Try doing something you want for once, I get the feeling you don't often."

"I don't know" Quatre murmured, wishing it was as easy as Trowa made it sound.

"You seem like a great guy" Trowa said, smiling at him, "but seeing as you don't really know what your father's planning, this whole meeting thing's kind of pointless, wouldn't you think?"

"Oh" Quatre said, a bit disappointed to see the brunette leave. "I'm sorry I've taken your time then" he said, standing as Trowa did as well.

"It most certainly wasn't a waste, I got to meet you didn't I?" Trowa grinned, standing as well. "In fact, I'd quite like to get to know you better, in a different setting perhaps. I know a great coffee shop if you're interested."

Quatre bit his lip in deliberation, glancing up at the taller man "I don't know . . . I'm sure I'd get hell from my father, and the media would be all over you . . ."

Trowa smirked, "I'm sure I could deal with the media, I'm a big boy. And your father already knows you're gay, it's time you started doing something you want to, that is, unless you're just trying to let me down easily."

"No!" Quatre said, blushing as it came out much more forceful than he'd intended it too. "I mean, that's not it at all. I just don't do things like this normally."

"What, have fun?"

"Unfortunately, yes." He admitted, "But, I'd love to see you again, I just don't know if I'm free today. I usually have to follow some pre-made schedule."

Trowa smirked leaning in to place a feather light kiss on the blonde's mouth before pulling back. "A little spontaneity for you." He murmured, looking down at the shorter man's phone Quatre wasn't aware he'd taken, typing away at it quickly.

A beeping in Trowa's pocket sounded briefly and Quatre assumed he'd called himself. "You now have a new contact Mr. Winner" he grinned, handing him his phone back and chuckling softly as he noticed the small pink tint still staining his cheeks.

"I'll call you" he said, "hopefully we can do something soon" he smiled one last time before pecking him quickly on the cheek and heading out the door almost as quickly as he'd appeared.

"Trowa" Quatre murmured to himself as he looked at his phone, noticing the smiley face next to the brunette's name. "I hope to see you soon indeed" Quatre grinned, smile not leaving his face even when his father called to see how things had gone. Maybe a bit of spontaneity wasn't such a bad thing after all.

_AN: I'm considering making this into a longer story but still haven't decided. Let me know if you want me to continue it!_

_Reviews are Love! =D_


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